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Tom Waiting Jun 2020

reversed a verse from “Like a Rolling Stone;
~complements to Mr. B. Dylan, a Nobel man~

you, me, hear what you’re hearing, feeling it,
you, me, hear what you’re thinking, feeling that,
regenerating, excising, pinching a single word of Bobby’s
lyricizing, knowing, you’ve just handbag-snatched a poem full.

the rolling stone sings of next meal scrounging,
he’s talking to you, knowing you, you customizing
his lyrics modifying-jiggering, for your purposeful brain,
emotional crazed notions, your monsanto seed of needs and strains.

nah, I’m fibbing, polite-ly lying,
like clover waves springing up
overnight after a night’s soaking,
raining, picking up hints, misdirections, clues,
***, poem titles dripping from my glassy eyes!

des idées for the next poem, the one, in the garden hereafter,
now called thereafter, all arriving in tranches, backyard bunches,
just to write down the titles fast enough, sometimes, trouble,
oft easy, sometimes rough, but always a fast rush jiggling job.

yeah, I’m liking that word, scrounging,
got character, internal noises aclashing,

so I’m scrounging
while lounging , it’s so ******* easy,

it’s getting borrowed till you! steal
it out from under me,
like an ill reputed
good poet should...

P.S. don’t keep me waiting!
let the scrounging commencin’

Tom Waiting Jun 2020
uptown train

a rare sighting, a shiny dime,,
in a city where clothesworn-grime,
an unshed waning gray, a skin coloring,
stony faces always chewing, enduring

in tunnels neath rivers of streets,
there is no moon, so little hope,
nightly somebody’s thinking,
somebody’s baby,
I’ll be, tonight,
someday, maybe

who will see them
as they are,
willI I, will I,
before they’ve gone too far,
roadies, touring to nowhere, disciples,
nose-led by a vision,
daring, but archetypal

there are no gardens,
but plenty secrets,
all planted,
that will never planet bloom,
seeds raised to die,
in watered sorrows drown,
embryos stillborn,
passed to daughters down

the trains go uptown
to shiny places,
to uptown people,
washed, shiny faces,
bedecked with futures,
hope, their jewel,
but not for them,
the downtime people

five pm, afternoon dying
into night bleeding,
the subway noises,
the perfumed stink, all,
goes unnoticed by senses dulled, unfulfilled,
day goes down,
another, and another,

colored pained refrain, why do we bother?
inspired by:

Outside another yellow moon
Has punched a hole in the nighttime, yes
I climb through the window and down the street
I'm shining like a new dime
The downtown trains are full
With all those Brooklyn girls
They try so hard to break out of their little worlds
Well, you wave your hand and they scatter like crows
They have nothing that will ever capture your heart
They're just thorns without the rose
Be careful of them in the dark
Oh if I was the one
You chose to be your only one
Oh baby can't you hear me now, can't you hear me now?
Will I see you tonight
On a downtown train?
Every night it's just the same
You leave me lonely, now
I know your window and I know it's late
I know your stairs and your doorway
I walk down your street and past your gate
I stand by the light at the four-way
You watch them as the fall
Oh baby, they all have heart attacks
They stay at the carnival
But they'll never win you back
Will I see you tonight
On a downtown train?
Every night it's just the same
Oh, baby
Will I see you tonight
On a downtown train?
All of my dreams just fall like rain
Oh, baby, on a downtown train
Will I see you tonight
On a downtown train?
Every night, every night it's just the same
Oh, baby
Will I see you tonight
On a downtown train?
All of my dreams just fall like rain
Well, on a downtown train
Well, on a downtown train
Well, on a downtown train
Well, on a downtown train
On a downtown train
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Tom Waits
Tom Waiting Jun 2020
the day blinks,
the sunset stinks,
the rhyming is de-fining,
is this how low you’ll go?
to get their blood hot, earn
their likes and hearts, a lot?

your personal side slides,
means you don’t need to
repent, nyet, been sentenced-sent
to the zone of indeterminacy

the day blinks, somewhere
tween day dying time and
maybe nighttime resurrection

unless you been there,
you missed it when,
the day blinks, then all them
souls, sinners and saints,

(oh yeah, the **** poets too!)

sneaky snuck out, went forced marching

into the zone of indeterminacy
Tom Waiting Jun 2020
decided why waiting, my name, my curse, my retrocognition,
last week, was sore-spent, from abusing discontinuation, retribution,
lovers who took more, too much, left contentedly, not looking back
over their shoulder, at the wasted wake left behind, nothing to them

just was their “been here, now, just a hereafter” remainder reminder

can’t believe I’m writing, in these blues lyrics electrified,
my ribs, plucked like guitar strings for “pic”ing demand wailing,
my own hereafter starts now, past days eradicated, freshened up,
these aren’t the days of reminiscing, these are the days of  no más!

of my hereafter, now I understand, did not know how, clarity arrived

but now will love only in equality, no worshiping, no portraits
to be admired  hanging on hallway walls, got rollers and pan,
repainting walls crazy whites, starting again, coming out today,
the hiding separated, put in trash bags on the street, for takeaway

in crazy notions, commencing my hereafter, is inviting you,
join me, improve my cadence, my rhymes, finish my sentences,
with periods of laughter, commas of words of perfect additions,
waiting no more, from here after and ever more so, my name

hereafter, is now my retrofitted futures, no longer waiting...
Tom Waiting Jun 2020
what’s the difference tween ******* & writing poetry?

let us cut to the chase, cause I know how much-you
hate to be kept waiting, lest your addled, added,
impatient attention grow as big as the U.S. budget

answer: not much

in fact, can’t come up with a single signal differentiation.

1. both require tissues when done
2. both give you short and sweet satisfaction, that is a renewable resource
3. serotonin levels up, up and away - yay!
4. long term impact for both is wrist pain
5. inevitably, makes you late for tedious life chores
6. doesn’t burn much calories, though you record it on your activity-tracker as “aerobic exercise”
7. one tends to exclaim “Oh ****” when completed.
8. both master bait you (pun. get it?) who’s the master, who’s the bait?
9. are you bored already? Go forth and do either activity, (I know you’re getting hot)
10. both leave you satisfied but the urge to purge returns very quickly
11. tendency to lock the bathroom door for both, when “composing”
12. filed on your computer as introspection and mindfulness (that cracks me up)
13. gonna stop right here so you take your ADD meds
14. you love them both in no particular order
15. you cannot get coronavirus from either (sincerely hope not!)
16. your denials deserve a retort: so ***** you too!

— The End —